Accountability
by dart53
Summary: He kept following too, far enough behind so it didn't look like it, but close enough… some times it's the only thing you can do.


It was late when they got back, the house was dark and quiet as they trooped through it and headed for the stairs that led to their dormitory. It was the practice now that when they returned from a job, and their own debriefings were done, the Warden cut them lose to go spend some time in town while he stayed on and gave the more detailed report of their assignment to the brass. If they'd had a rough time, and one of them got hurt, they spent their time sitting around the hospital waiting for word on their injured member, ..and for the Warden to show up to wait with them. If they were lucky, and everyone made it back in one piece, they went down to the Doves and sang and drank, and tried to forget the reason they were there, that there was a war going on around them. It helped to get into a place like the pub to blow off steam and surround themselves for a bit with people that were more concerned, at least on the surface, with a friendly game of darts than worrying about how they were going to survive the next seventy-two hours.

This time they'd been lucky.

They came in by sub, landing just after sunrise. The next four or five hours they spent sitting in a room with a crew of G2's going over all the details they could dredge up about where they went, who they talked to, what they did and how they did it, while Garrison did the same thing in another room with his own set of interrogators who were a little higher up on the command ladder. They'd go over it all again when they were back at the mansion together. Those little private sessions they held around the table in the room they shared upstairs, or sitting around the fire down in the library, would be in even greater detail. They'd pick apart what went right and what wrong as they passed around a bottle or drank cup after cup of coffee. They'd even tear into what didn't make any difference at all as they looked for ways to make the next job go a little smoother, a little safer, so they'd have an edge that might give them their best chance of surviving to the end of the war. But it was late now, and they were all beat, that little get together would have to wait.

They had rules that they had to go by when they were allowed off the place and, while they weren't above bending them into pretzels, they held to them close enough… Well, close enough that the Warden kept letting them go, anyway. Every one of the men knew that if Rawlins was in charge of them they'd be confined to the property most of the time. And they sure as hell knew that if any of the higher ups that the Warden had to deal with were in control they'd probably be in a lock up somewhere, just let out to do their jobs and then right back behind bars till the next little mission. It was Garrison that made the decisions though and, because most of the time he treated them like they could be trusted, most of the time they were trustworthy. One of the things he trusted them to do when he let them go into town was to get back from the pub no later than one hour after closing. If they were down there without his permission he expected them back _two_ hours after closing. They were tired tonight and hadn't even waited for 'last round' to be called before they headed back.

"Any a you blokes fancy a little something?" It was Goniff's customary question when they came in from a night in town. It didn't make any difference how much he ate in the pub, he was always in need of 'a bite of something' by the time they got home. He didn't have any takers, that was customary too, so he made a quick detour to the kitchen and snagged a handful of biscuits and a slightly withered late winter apple from the plate Winnie usually left out for them before hurrying after the others. Goniff took the stairs two at a time and nudged Casino with an elbow as he passed him. "You're turn to lock up, mate."

Casino stopped on the stairs, rolled his eyes, and groaned. That was another thing that went with being 'trustworthy'… During the day the mansion might be headquarters for their operation and they shared it with the soldiers who were assigned to keep the outfit running. Those guys checked out and went to their own barracks when the day was done and, now that Garrison knew they weren't going to take off, after hours the place just turned into 'home' for them. Since there was no complement of guards prowling around downstairs anymore it was up to them to see to their own 'security' and it was Casino's turn to make sure that the fires were either out or banked down and that the heavy blackout drapes were in place, that everything was locked up for the night.

It wasn't a small place, so it wasn't going to be a quick job. He spent a moment while he watched the others disappear up the stairs and considered just forgetting about it for once and heading straight up to bed. But that 'trustworthy' thing got the better of him. If the Warden came in and found the place wide open he'd cut back on their privileges and he didn't want to be held accountable for that. Besides after spending time in prison Casino kind of liked being able to come and go like a normal person for a change.

Heaving a sigh he turned and trudged back down the stairs. He'd decided to start in the kitchen and work his way up. Even though Goniff had just been in there, since it wasn't his 'turn' he wouldn't have paid any attention to seeing that the door was locked, in fact Goniff had been known to walk off and leave the fire burning on the stove from time to time… In the interest of self preservation, as well as security, it was just safer to go down there and take a look around. It was a good thing he went down too. The stove wasn't any problem, it was off, but the door to the kitchen wasn't locked like it was supposed to be.

Casino locked up in the kitchen and checked the storage rooms down there before he climbed to the main floor. They'd come in the main door but, since the little pick pocket was the last one through, he double checked it, just to be on the safe side. He plodded along the long hall, opening every door to check all the rooms. He even checked the ones set aside for official military use because they found Rawlins had gone off, once, and left the blackout curtains open in his office. They still hadn't let the Sergeant Major live that one down! But because of the lapse the nightly rounds were made with a flashlight. They didn't want to risk breaking blackout regulations by just flipping on a light in a room only to find out the windows were wide open to the outside.

Yawning he walked right on past Garrison's office figuring that there was no way the Lieutenant would break regulations. Halfway to the next door he changed his mind and turned around. If he was going to do it, he might as well do it right…and if he skipped it the Warden would find out somehow... Casino opened the door and stepped inside, he ran the light along the carpet and swung it up at the outside wall confirming that the curtains were in place over the French doors before he turned to go. The shaft of light caught something as he turned that caused him to swing back and take a better look. The bottom drawer of the Warden's desk was open.

The skin on his scalp prickled a little. The Lieutenant liked everything neat, orderly… he wouldn't just leave his desk like that. Casino backed slowly towards the door and the safety of the dimly lit hallway as he cautiously surveyed the rest of the room with his flashlight. He half expected to find some German spy lurking in one of the corners and he wished he had the reassuring weight of a pistol in his hand instead of just a damned flashlight. When he reached the threshold he pulled the door almost closed before he flipped on the overhead lamp. He stood listening but all he heard was silence… When he stuck his head back inside all he saw was an empty office. Feeling more than a little foolish he walked back in and went over to the desk and shoved the drawer closed with his foot, he was glad none of the other guys had been around to witness it. Talk about never living something down...

Casino continued down that side of the hall checking the map room and the smaller conference room. He checked the large window at the end of the corridor and then started up the other side. As he drew close to the library his scalp prickled again. The door was cracked open just a bit… all the others had been closed as a second layer of defense against any light escaping from the hall as they moved around the mansion after dark_._

Stepping softly he laid his hand on the door's heavy handle so it wouldn't move. He got closer and rested his forehead against the wood…Goniff told him if he held a door or window back against himself and leaned forward to open it, it wouldn't ever creak and he wouldn't give himself away. Since the little Limey had never been caught in the act of breaking in, he thought there might be something to the advice… The muscles in his shoulders and back tensed and the grip he had on the flashlight tightened as he carefully swung the door open to get a better look at the room.

The lamps were off inside just like they were supposed to be. But there'd been a fire laid in the room, probably when the staff at the house got word they were on their way back, and embers from the fireplace cast long shadows along the carpet and gave just enough light to reveal the Warden sitting in a chair almost at the edge of the glow.

"Jeeze! What d'you think your doin'! I could a shot you for a prowler!" Casino stalked across to the fireplace picked up a poker and jabbed at the coals as a way to burn up some of his irritation. Since his fear wasn't quite used up he turned, prepared to give the Lieutenant another piece of his mind, but the words died before he could spit them out.

Garrison hadn't moved, he hadn't even shifted his gaze away from the fire. The disturbed fuel caught and Casino watched the flames flicker over a face that was tired and drawn, the eyes marred by dark circles. The Warden still wore his cap but it was pushed back on his head, he still had his coat on but it, and the uniform jacket he wore, was unbuttoned, his tie was pulled down and the first button on his shirt undone. He was slouched down in the chair, his arms hung over the sides, his left hand held something that was hidden in the darkness.

Moving a little closer he asked, "What you got there?"

Garrison didn't even look in his direction, just silently raised the bottle and turned the label towards Casino before taking a sip. He hadn't bothered with a glass, and he didn't bother to offer the safecracker a drink.

Casino settled down on the sofa and studied the Lieutenant for a moment. The Warden was staring into the fire, concentrating, it appeared, on the flames as they licked up around the logs. In reality of course the he knew Garrison's thoughts were miles away and probably centered on a small patch of forest over in Germany. They'd buried a guy there on the last mission, a guy the Warden had worked with before their group was even formed.

Taking a shot, Casino said. "Guess after what happened I'd be tryin to get drunk too, but…"

Garrison snorted and cut off any words of consolation Casino might have come up with. "Never been drunk. I've tried, but it just doesn't work for me."

Casino cocked an eyebrow and checked the level of the liquid in the bottle. He saw how loosely it was held, how Garrison had to work at keeping his eyes open. If the guy wasn't drunk he was getting close enough that he was about to blow his claim. "Never?" He didn't even try to keep his skepticism from seeping into his voice.

The Warden finally turned away from his study of the fire and shook his head in the other man's direction. "Nope. Not like that." He knew a few of his words slurred a bit and the muscles in his shoulders and arms were starting to go a little slack, clear evidence that he had a physical reaction to the alcohol. "Never can seem to lose the damn sense of accountability."

Silence settled between the two men. Casino knew by now that sense of responsibility was just part of the Warden's make up. There wasn't anything that he could say that was going to talk him out of feeling it. He watched as Garrison tipped the bottle up again, it was getting pretty close to being empty, and it wasn't just a little fifth either.

"You better watch it, babe. Even if you say you can't get drunk off that stuff it can still kill you if you get too much down at one time."

Garrison lifted the bottle up and inspected it, checking the level of liquor inside. "Didn't use it all on this one. Some of it went for Colin. Some for Catron,.. Jackman,… Ward,… Blackie,… Leonardo. I had to use a lot of it up on a group of guys over in North Africa…" He studied the flames in the fireplace for a moment before he took another drink. "Hell, some of it even went for Wheeler."

The two men sat silent, the Warden watching the fire, Casino watching the Warden.

The safecracker thought about the list and knew he'd only heard a part of it. "That's not the only jug then, is it?"

Garrison silently shook his head, then tipped the bottle up and drained it. He sat it down on the table next to the chair and stood. It took him a moment to find his balance.

"Where you goin' now?" In his opinion the guy had every right to try and get plastered if he wanted to but though Casino had his doubts about besting the Warden, even loaded up on whiskey like he was now, if he was headed off for another bottle, he wasn't going to let him break the seal on it. He wouldn't just sit there and let the guy poison himself.

Craig stood there for a moment, a little lost like he'd forgotten why he'd even gotten up out of the chair. Eventually he took a deep breath and said. "I guess I'll go up to bed."

Casino got up and followed as Garrison moved across the hall to the stairs. He kept following too, far enough behind so it didn't look like it, but close enough… When they reached the hall outside the Lieutenant's door he watched as the Warden fumbled with the knob for a minute before he reached out and opened the thing for him. "You get in there and hit the sack. You'll see, babe… all you need to do is get a good nights sleep. Everything'll look better in the morning."

The Lieutenant's mouth lifted in a smile that didn't reach his eyes and he shook his head. "That never works any better than the booze." He started to move into the room only to be stopped by the hand Casino laid on his shoulder.

"Hang on a minute." The safecracker slipped his fingers under the collar of the Warden's jacket and lifted the coat and jacket off his shoulders. He tossed the garments on the chair that sat in the corner of the room. He lifted the cap off the guy's head and tossed that onto the chair too. "You gonna be okay?"

Garrison stood with his back to him and nodded his head. "Yeah." A moment later he took a deep breath and let it out and then turned. This time the grave smile lightened the darkness in his eyes a little. "I'll be fine. Thanks, Casino."


End file.
